Chapter 4

Zander…

“So, you didn’t know either of your parents?” I asked, ignoring her question of when she could leave.

“Nope. What about you, were you lucky enough to know either of your parents?” she asked.

“I had wondered if your mother had hidden you away from this world to protect you from your father. You’re better off not knowing your father. I’ve yet to meet a demon who doesn’t need their head removed from their body. Alright then, what you need to know is that every mythological creature or being you’ve ever heard of is real, some are good, and some are bad,” I told her.

“And demons are the bad guys,” she said in a disbelieving tone.

I slammed a fist into the desktop, causing her to jump. “You caught fire just over four hours ago, twice, and you’ve seen my face change. Do not take that tone with me.”

“I’m trying to forget,” she said in a quiet voice.

“Forget what, that you’re half demon, or what my other face looks like?” I demanded.

“Both,” she said, looking me directly in the eye.

I leaned forward. “Don’t. In a month, perhaps two, you will be fully set into your immortality and all your abilities along with it.”

“My abilities? What abilities?” she asked.

“Catching fire is one of your abilities. Being half Valkyrie, half demon, I can’t tell you what all you’ll be capable of, only what each is capable of. Valkyries can control lightning, but with heightened emotions they cause random lightning strikes. Different breeds of demons have different powers. I’ve no idea what kind of demon you are, so we will just have to wait and see.”

“I don’t want anything else to happen to me. I don’t want to catch fire anymore, and I don’t want to be a part of this nightmare anymore. I want to close my eyes and wake up at home and none of this have ever happened,” she said as she put her face in her hands.

My phone buzzed and I looked down at the screen telling me my car had been brought around to the basement entrance out back. I stood and pulled on my coat. “You’re not going to wake up from this. Get your things, it’s time to leave.”

“Where are we going?” she asked as she picked up her purse, which she’d dropped during our initial encounter.

I handed her a jacket I had hanging next to the door since hers had been burnt away. “We are going to my house.”

“You can just drop me off at my hotel. I don’t go home with strangers,” she said nervously.

“What hotel are you staying at?” I asked.

“The Sleepy Inn on Wilson,” she said in a relieved voice.

“I’ll have Ash go by and get your things in the morning. Marcus told me to keep you safe, so you’ll be staying with me where I can keep an eye on you,” I told her as I opened the door.

She glared at me. “I don’t care who told you to keep me safe, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“Am I going to have to drag you out of here?” I growled, my anger getting the better of me. I wasn’t happy about the arrangement either.

She took a step back. “Why can’t we just pretend we never met? I’ll leave town tomorrow and you won’t ever have to see me again.”

I grabbed her elbow and began leading her down the hall to the steps leading up to the back door. “The only place you’re going is to my spare bedroom. Tomorrow we’ll begin training you, as well as educating you.”

Angelica…

Waking up, I looked around. I wasn’t confused about where I was; I didn’t have to think about it. Unfortunately, I remembered everything. I remembered catching fire, Mr. Stone’s nasty face, being brought to his home against my will, and put up in one of his spare rooms with a short explanation of the mythological world. The only blank spots in my memory from the day before were from the time I blacked out and the time I fell asleep because of the 'spell' Zander had used on me. The problem I was having was that I wasn’t waking up from a nightmare, leaving me with only two options: a massive psychotic breakdown or a reality that was unbelievable.

Getting out of bed, I made quick work of my hair thanks to the travel brush in my purse and pulled on my shoes. I took a deep breath and quietly opened the door of my room. Looking up and down the hall, I saw that the other doors were still closed and could hear nothing. I closed the door silently behind me and snuck down the hall. Sticking my head into the living room, I saw no one and heard no noise from the rest of the house.

No way was I sticking around with a crazy Gargoyle man. I nibbled my bottom lip and opened the front door as quietly as possible and slipped out onto the impressive front steps leading down a manicured drive to a well-to-do neighborhood. I lifted my chin and squared my shoulders. I didn’t know where I was, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me. I started walking and turned right out of the driveway, hoping it would take me out of the neighborhood the quickest.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t that long before I was nearing the entrance to the neighborhood, where miraculously there was a cab parked just outside the gates. I hurried up to the cab and tapped on the window. The 30-something-year-old man who had been reading the paper smiled and rolled down his window. “You need a ride, miss?” he asked pleasantly.

“I sure do,” I said with a hint of relief I couldn’t quite keep out of my voice.

“Hop in,” he said and rolled his window up as I was getting in the back of the cab. “Where can I take you?” he asked, picking up his phone. Normally I’d have been upset with a driver texting, but in my current situation, I didn’t care if he was smoking a fat one with a cooler full of beer in the passenger seat.

“Do you know any good coffee shops?” I asked, figuring I should think about my options before I made any rash decisions. If I was having a psychotic episode, then I needed to go to a hospital, but if this was reality, then I really needed a drink.

“I know the perfect place on West and Henry,” he said before setting his phone down and pulling out of the neighborhood. “Just checking in with the boss; I don’t text and drive,” he said with a wink in the mirror. As we went down the road, he glanced back up at me. “You must not be from around here if you need me to suggest a coffee place.”

“Nope.”

“You like it here in the big city?” he asked, looking back at the road.

“Can’t say I do,” I said honestly. I had, for all of a few hours, before my life took one hell of a turn.

“You homesick then?” he asked.

“No,” I said a bit too quickly.

“Ah. You’re running from something.” He held up a hand. “No judging, we all have skeletons in our closets.” He looked back in the mirror. “Maybe you should give the city another shot? You probably just haven’t seen the better side of things yet.”

“Maybe,” I said to humor him.

“Just wait until you have coffee to make your decision to leave; it’s a good cup of joe,” he said with a smile. “And you might like the people there.”

“Hmm,” I said in response. Not really into the conversation. I was more concerned with thinking over everything that had happened. I didn’t know how to explain the new clothes, how to explain waking up in that house. If I was having a delusion, I’d think that things wouldn’t match up, that something would be off or at least not fit with the rest of the delusion. If I wasn’t crazy, then what the hell was I supposed to do? Should I stay with the Gargoyle who flashed his nasty face when he got upset? Or should I run as far and as fast as I could?

Before I knew it, we were pulling up to a curb in front of a cute little coffee shop. “Here’s your stop,” the driver said.

“What do I owe you?” I started digging through my purse for my wallet.

“I’ve got it,” a gravelly voice said as my door suddenly opened.